


after an afternoon

by preromantics



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-03
Updated: 2010-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:09:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/pseuds/preromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal shows Peter and El how he seduces a mark. <i>El laughs across the room, eyes bright. "Naturally charming," she says, the words rolling. "That seems about right."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	after an afternoon

"So," El says, gesturing with the remote in her hand, the television left blank, "how do you do it?"

She's sitting back in her arm chair, facing Peter and Neal on the couch. Neal shrugs at her, pretends he doesn't know what she's referring to, and admires the lines her shoulders make against her neck in the shirt he convinced Peter to buy her. They'd be good lines for drawing, probably -- Neal tilts his head to get the angle right for future reference and Elizabeth curls one side of her lip up at him, soft.

"Yes," Peter says, drawn out a little, "how do you do it?"

He's across the couch from Neal, sitting a little straight-backed like the day's work wasn't enough to let him sink down boneless into the cushions, but also enough that he can't shake it. Neal knows the point on Peter's neck that will make the tension drain out from the line of his spine, although he hasn't tested it. He just knows it would work, just like he knows Peter is probably just a little ticklish on the bottom of his feet, maybe under his ribs, and that there's a spot under his ear that Neal could maybe suck on, just a little, and get him to groan.

Figuratively and hypothetically speaking, of course.

"It comes naturally," Neal says, halfway into the start of a mostly comfortable silence. He grins, quick.

El laughs across the room, eyes bright. "Naturally charming," she says, the words rolling. "That seems about right."

Neal tips his head at her, agreeing.

"It's the hats," Peter says, with one eyebrow halfway raised, nodding towards Neal's head. "That's all."

Neal pretends to be offended and Elizabeth sits back in her chair a little more, relaxing into their back-and-forths.

"So you're saying," Neal says, humming, "if I elected to not wear _hats_, I wouldn't be able to seduce a mark?"

Peter shrugs, turning on the couch to face Neal more directly. "That's what I'm saying," he says. He sounds slightly amused. (It's a nice tone on him.)

"Those are pretty strong words, honey," El says. She sounds more than slightly amused, and when Neal turns towards her she smiles quick and a little devilish in his direction.

Neal sits up on his cushion a little, making a show of extending his hand and taking his hat off his head, tipping it towards Peter and then setting it on the coffee table in one smooth motion.

"What, are you going to try and seduce my wife?" Peter asks, laughing low.

"Of course not," Neal says, just as Elizabeth laughs.

"That would be too easy," El says, and Peter frowns over at her. Neal generally finds it amusing that Peter always assumes El is on his side.

"I'll seduce you another day," Neal says to El, not meaning for the words to come out quite like the promise they do. She settles back into the cushions of her chair and nods.

Neal stands from his seat, rolling his shoulders back in a way he knows looks good, clasping his hands behind his back to stretch in an arch before stepping over a few feet to sink down onto the cushion Peter is sitting on, close enough that their thighs touch.

"I thought I'd try my hand at you," Neal says, leaning back against the cushion with one hand propping his chin up, eyes bright. "If that's okay."

Peter raises an eyebrow but rolls his neck back a little, keeping his body still. He raises a hand and rolls his shoulder with it, indicating that Neal should continue.

"Alright," Neal says, although he's slightly at a loss. For all the ways he'd actually imagined trying anything on Peter, if he ever did, acting like he did on a mark, contrived, certainly wasn't his first choice. He opens his mouth a little and closes it.

"What first?" Peter asks. He rests a hand on Neal's thigh -- it's probably supposed to be comforting, but it just makes Neal want to slide that much closer.

"You're not the usual mark," Neal says, honestly, but keeps his voice smooth.

"No," Peter agrees. His thumbs is pressing small circles into Neal's thigh, where his slacks are stretched tight. Neal gets the slight impression he's not the only one trying to seduce a mark.

"You're quite handsome for a mark," Neal says, after a beat, electing to play the game up a little. Both Peter and El laugh at him, the sound echoing around the room brightly.

"I hope you usually do better than that," Peter says, but his voice is low.

Neal flexes his thigh just slightly under Peter's hand, and Peter squeezes against the muscle. "I didn't think I was doing too bad," Neal says, tipping his head back just slightly. He catches El out of the corner of his eye, and she's watching them a little lazily, eyes half closed with a small smile. "Neither were you," he adds.

"You get points off for thinking too much," Peter says. His face is close -- his body is close. Neal keeps his body angled away just slightly, still grinning in a way he knows is charming, but allowing enough room for Peter to end the game, stand and go get a (good) drink from the kitchen.

Neal hums, doesn't say anything. His lips are dry and he darts his tongue out between them just to make them a little slick, and he doesn't mean for it to be part of his, whatever this is, presentation, but he watches Peter's eyes go a little wide, his nostrils flaring with a tiny intake of out-of-beat breath.

"Peter," Neal says, because he suddenly wants to say that wasn't part of it, that's just what he --

But Peter is already reaching up and around, the wide flat of his palm pressing against the back of Neal's neck, pulling him forward so that his dry lips meet Neal's newly slick ones, all hard pressure and little finesse.

El makes an interested noise from her chair, and Neal can't look over -- too busy with Peter's mouth, Peter's hands, trying to remember the finer points of how to make Peter come undone that he'd spent nights and nights thinking about alone in his bed.

Peter makes a low sound into Neal's mouth and Neal presses forward, one leg hooking over Peter's thigh just slightly so he can hoist himself up, lick wet and hard into Peter's mouth as Peter's hands come to rest under his ribs, thumbs digging in with the lightest pressure.

Peter bends back just slightly and Neal looks down at him, eyes heavy-lidded. Peter looks both a little unsure and still sort of amused -- probably at having a lapful of Neal, which Neal would bet wasn't on Peter's priority list when they'd stopped by for a quick lunch before going back out to the field unofficially.

"Neal," Peter says, and Neal shrugs at him, smiling wider than the moment calls for. Peter drags his lips down Neal's throat and presses his body down with his hands on Neal's waist, giving Neal space to roll his hips down. Neal laughs a little, low, into the side of Peter's head, bending his neck down to slide his own lips wetly down Peter's jawline.

El hums from behind them, light and pleased. "I think Neal wins," she says, and Neal can feel it when she steps up behind him, pressing herself against his back and hooking her head over his shoulder to look down at Peter.

"Or would you have given in faster if he'd been wearing his hat?" she asks, leaning all the way to kiss Peter quick and soft. Neal turns and smiles into her hair, lets her reach down and tilt his chin up with two fingers to scrape her teeth along his bottom lip, opening them up for her own lips to fit between, vibrating on another small laugh.

"I think we should get lunch," El says when she tips her head away, stepping back. Neal twists a little on Peter's lap, turning slightly to wrap his fingers around El's wrist and rub a circle into the soft skin there, under a small gold chain bracelet Neal remembers Peter buying her years ago, before he'd even gone to prison.

"Lunch sounds good," he says, nodding. Peter squeezes his hand against Neal's side just slightly, and Neal slips off his thigh and stands, watching El walk towards the kitchen after twisting out of his hand in a little twirl.

"Why do I feel like this was all planned?" Peter asks, stretching when he stands. Neal puts his palm between Peter's shoulder-blades and presses in, letting Peter push backwards into it, groaning just slightly when Neal slips his thumb up to press against the low point of Peter's hairline.

"I didn't plan it," Neal says, somewhat honestly. He watches the way Peter's back moves under the material of his suit scrunched a little under Neal's hand. The lines are nice, soft, relaxed. "Not this version, at least."

Peter turns around, staying close against Neal and he just sighs, the sides of his mouth turning up just the tiniest amount. "How many versions did you have?" he asks.

Neal grins, wide. He reaches down to the coffee table, stretching across Peter's chest, and tips his hat back onto his head to start towards the dining room. "A few," he says, light, and El laughs at him from the kitchen as Peter's footsteps follow behind him, light against the carpet.


End file.
